Daisy
by stardustkr7
Summary: After a late patrol, Dick picks up a stray cat. Barbara is not impressed with what results. One shot.


**A/N:** Wrote this at like three in the morning so apologize for errors.

I guess it sorta fits with my other YJ stories. This happens a lot, where I writing and I think of cutesy little scenes like this about everyday life but have no way to actually fit them in cohesively to the rest of the story.

It's like a deleted scene but has no relevance to the plot.

Enjoy

* * *

She really should have never let him bring home the animal in the first place.

Barbara stared disapprovingly at the cat as she recalled the evening. Her and Dick had been patrolling Gotham together and were just about to turn in for the night when they heard soft crying from a dark alleyway.

Batgirl darted forward quickly (she would never admit that it was maternal instinct making her move so fast towards the source of the cries). It sounded like a wailing small child.

"Is anyone there? It's safe, you can come out. I'm Batgirl, I'll help you," she said softly.

Behind her, Nightwing was searching through the debris in the alley.

The cries echoed oddly against the uneven walls, sounding garbled. Perhaps it was a baby who could not respond? They carefully searched the alley, pawing through old crates, looking behind bins.

"BG, over here," said Nightwing. He was kneeling next to an old box, holding a hand inside and cooing softly. "Come on, come here, it's okay …"

Batgirl frowned, watching him try to coax out the box's occupant.

Soon enough, he straightened up and turned around holding something small … and furry.

"Is that a …"

"A cat," he confirmed, carefully holding the creature to his chest and scratching behind it's ears. "Probably a stray."

Her shoulders slumped slightly. There were tons of strays in the city. At least it wasn't an abandoned child.

"We should get going," said Batgirl tiredly, starting to walk past him back to the street.

"Wait, we can't leave him. Look, he's starving! You can see his ribs," he said, holding up the cat's belly for her inspection.

"She," Barbara corrected him.

"Huh?"

"That cat is a female," she said, pointing.

"Oh. Well, then she's starving," he amended.

"I'm sure she'll find something without our help."

"Babs … we can't just leave her. She was crying for help. You thought she was a baby." He was once again cuddling the kitty to his chest. Its fur was matted and dirty, even missing in some places. One of her ears had a hole in it and her eyes were covered with goop. She looked pretty pathetic.

Barbara sighed. "Dick, we can't bring home a stray cat. It's probably diseased and feral. I'm sorry. If you want, we can drop it off at a shelter," she said.

Dick pouted. "A shelter will just put her down. All of them in the city are always filled. And corrupt. Besides, look at her? She's so sweet, she's not feral," he defended, smiling slightly down at the animal.

She was torn. The sight of her adorable boyfriend holding a kitty just killed her. But there were practicality things involved here. Like, who would end up taking the cat to the vet or remembering to feed it or clean out the litter box? Most likely her. This was partly why she never had pets growing up, except for a poorly cared for goldfish (the only thing their apartment allowed).

"Please can we keep her, Babs?" He was pouting again and god, was she thankful that she couldn't see his eyes because he was probably working those too. Damn him.

"Fine, we can take her home tonight. Tomorrow we'll find someone else to take her in. We're both too busy for a pet anyway," she relented.

Nightwing grinned at her. It was a victory and he knew it.

Unfortunately, one night turned into two, then a whole week passed and suddenly she was buying cat food at the store along with the rest of their groceries.

"No, honey, get the organic kind," he requested when she called him. "I know it's more expensive, it's fine. We can afford it. What we can't afford is her getting sick again from eating all that cheap, processed crap. I mean, we buy organic for ourselves. Seems selfish not to get any for Daisy."

"Daisy?"

"You did say she was a girl."

The name stuck. After a good two weeks of having a warm bed and a decent meal, Daisy flourished. Dick had taken careful pains to wash the poor thing's fur (in their bathtub, with Barbara's nice shampoo, much to her annoyance) and it was already growing back in a beautiful calico pattern. She also seemed to very quickly understand how to use a box and was perfectly comfortable climbing around their furniture like she owned it.

"You know, Dick. She might have been someone's pet. Maybe we should put up signs. Or see if she has a microchip? We have to take her to the vet anyway to get her fixed," Barbara pointed out.

Daisy was sitting on his lap, purring contently as he idly petted her. He was getting much attached very quickly. And Barbara, well, she wasn't. The cat had scratched her more than once when she tried to pet it. She tried not to take it too personally; Dick was probably the first living creature to show her affection.

But then the vet confirmed that Daisy had no tracking chip and had not been spayed so she was most likely a stray and had no home to be returned to. They could keep her.

The whole situation had gotten completely out of control. Barbara had to face the facts.

They now owned a cat. A pretty calico named Daisy. Her and Dick, after just months of living together, adopted a cat.

And Barbara would never it say it to his face, but the cat was a total brat a majority of the time. She tried, she really did. But the snooty little creature would turn up her nose and swipe at her hand when she tried to pet her. Daisy even had the gall to jump up on the table and plant herself on whatever Barbara was working on.

"You're such a little bitch," the frustrated redhead told the feline when Dick wasn't home. "You know, I'm totally not above making myself a delicious tuna sandwich and eating it right in front of you."

Daisy just stared back coolly, the absolute embodiment of snobbery.

"I saw him first. You aren't even the type of pussy he's into."

Daisy hissed at her.

_Way to go Gordon, you're jealous of a cat …_

It was the last straw though, when she got home late one night and found something occupying her side of the bed. Dick was sound asleep already, didn't even stir as she moved around the room. And Daisy was lounging on her pillow. Her fucking pillow. Why the fuck did Dick even let it get on their bed? She was just going to shed all over the place.

"Shoo! Get off my pillow!" Barbara whispered.

Daisy hissed back, taking an angry swipe at her hand.

Barbara narrowed her eyes then turned and stomped out of the bedroom. She had just settled herself on the couch when Dick sleepily walked out into the living room.

"Babe? Why didn't you come to bed?" he asked, yawning and stretching his arms.

She glared at him then turned away on her side. "Why don't you go back to bed with your new girlfriend?"

It was petty and silly but she was tired and sore and that stupid cat was on her pillow and she would have to probably wash it tomorrow on top of all the other crap she had to do.

"What are you talking about?"

"Your cat is on my side of the bed," she growled.

"Then push her off," he suggested.

Barbara didn't say anything. Complaining that Daisy would just scratch her if she tried seemed weak in her mind. The stupid creature had become overly possessive of her boyfriend.

Dick sat down on the edge of the couch, putting a hand on her shoulder.

"Barbara, talk to me, please?"

She sighed. "That thing must have known I didn't want to keep it and is holding it against me. She's so fucking smug about it too. I have scratches all over from trying to pet her."

"Do you want to get rid of her?" he asked quietly.

How did he possibly expect her to answer that honestly? She felt so stupid for making such a big deal about it. If they couldn't even handle having a pet together, what did that say about the future of their relationship?

"I just don't want to come home and find her on my pillow," Barbara said, evading the question.

He paused then stood up and walked back into their room. She looked over her shoulder in time to see him carrying Daisy out of the room and depositing her in the laundry room off the kitchen, quickly shutting the door before she could realize what was going on and dart back out. Then he walked over to her and easily picked her up.

"Perhaps we need some boundaries established," he said, ignoring the meowing and scratching at the door.

"I didn't even think you were a cat person," she grumbled as he carried her to bed.

"I'm not. I'm actually more of an elephant person," Dick said, shooting her a sleepy grin.


End file.
